


Good Fences Make Good Neighbors

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Backwoods Cult, Eldritch Abomination, F/F, Good Neighbors, Interspecies Romance, Post-Apocalyptic, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Naomi did not mean to start a cult, but... there was something dangerous in the woods.
Relationships: Female Backwoods Cult Leader/Her Female Bigfoot Lover
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21
Collections: Shipoween 2020 - The Halloween Ship Exchange!





	Good Fences Make Good Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sweetcarolanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetcarolanne/gifts).



> Happy Halloween! I had a lot of fun writing this one, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it!

Naomi had not meant to start a cult.

She supposed that a lot of cult leaders said that, when things went pear shaped. Also, _fuck_ did she miss fresh pears. The canned ones in syrup brought up from the old house's echoing, dark basement did not compare to the sumptuous joy of biting into a fresh, juicy pear. 

But when the world at large had started to go… well, pear shaped (where had that expression come from, anyway, since pears were a good shape for… pears), she had hauled as many people from her college dorm as she could fit into the repurposed school bus her twin brother had bought (he hadn’t been able to explain why he’d bought it, come to think of it), and she'd gone up to her great-aunt's house out in the mountains. 

She still had nightmares about that drive - standing next to Reuben in the darkness (ignoring the white line she was supposed to stay behind), eyes glued to the windshield as they inched across the narrow, winding mountain roads. 

But she’d had that horrible, horrible feeling in the depths of her guts, and great-aunt Agatha had always told her that “the land is for you and Reuben, when I’m gone, and I won’t have anyone else take it!” and it had been sitting there empty for the last five months, and, well… why not? 

So then it had been the twelve of them, and the house was more than big enough (how did it have _seven bedrooms_ , what the heck had Aunt Agatha needed that many bedrooms for, anyway?), and then after the first few terror stricken days where they'd all huddled together and eaten canned spaghetti (also from the basement), they'd all started to venture outside, take in the lay of the land.

There had been some good luck - they'd found the seeds, the mostly okay, if untended orchard, the equally untended but otherwise pretty good garden. There had been a few people who knew about plants, a few people who knew about cooking or pickling or compost. It had all, mostly, gone smoothly.

And then there was the matter of the book.

Aunt Agatha had a pretty extensive, if... eclectic library. A good number of books about gardening and apples, a lot of the kind of cheap pulp horror that you'd pick up at a garage sale with vividly painted covers, and a journal that looked roughly the size of the dictionary that had sat at the podium at the library she'd spent too much time in as a kid. 

The journal was full of... stuff. Some of it looked frankly occult, some of it was the day to day minutiae that was part of everyone's lives, and some of it was more than she ever wanted to know about her great aunt.

She'd taken to opening it at random at the beginning of the day, maybe set the tone. It didn't always work, but it happened enough times that she did wonder.

_Maybe there is something to the whole "prophet" talk after all,_ Naomi thought, as she closed her eyes and skimmed through the big book. _Taking advice from a dead woman's journal isn't exactly normal, is it?_

She needed all the guidance that she could get, frankly. She didn't know why everyone was looking at her - she was just the one who had a bad feeling, and she'd been lucky that her brother had the bus. 

She opened the book at random and jabbed her finger at a random paragraph with her eyes closed, then opened them she read Agatha's crabbed, spiky handwriting. 

_Found a beehive in the oldest apple tree. Be nice to have some company, and they won't mind sharing a bit of the bounty. Just need to remember to keep them in the loop._

"What does that mean?" Naomi said out loud in the small library, and the books didn't answer. Thankfully.

Still. It was a little less cryptic than the one from yesterday, which had been talking about wild hogs getting into the compost again. Although then again, now she knew to put up good fences.

There were just too many things going on at once, too many things that she needed to keep track of. Everyone was able to take care of each other, more or less, and it wasn't as if she was expected to govern from on high. But she could see the different colors the sky was turning 

* * *

"Willy," said Reuben, "far be it from me to question your ever present prophetic wisdom -"

"If you're going to say something sarcastic, I don't want to hear it," Naomi said, as she rifled through the woodshed. "Where are the trimmers?" 

"You're the prophet, why don't you know?" Reuben asked, as Naomi kept sifting through the collected detritus.

"Not a word," Naomi said, and she rubbed her temples. "We need to clean up in here - there's probably stuff we'll need for harvesting and planting."

"I know there's a few hoes skirting around somewhere," said Reuben. 

"Don't you start," Naomi said, and then she sighed. "I'm sorry," she said, and she hated how tired she sounded, how choked up her voice was.

"Hey," Reuben said, and his voice was quiet. He hugged her, and she leaned into the familiar warmth of her twin, feeling her shoulders untense just a little. "We'll get through this. All of this."

"Why does everyone expect me to have all the answers?" Her voice was muffled by the red buffalo check of his shirt. 

"Because you somehow knew that bad shit was gonna go down and got us all out of Dodge," Reuben said. "That does give the impression that you know what's up."

"Well, yeah, but that was... different." Naomi trailed off. She didn't know how to sort it out in her own head, let alone how to try to explain that the knowledge had just dropped into her head like a stone. It wasn't as if she knew anything else, she'd just woken up from a nightmare and _known_ that something bad was going to happen. 

Reuben patted her on the shoulder, and she leaned back. Then she smiled, because she could see the clippers hanging on the wall over his shoulder. 

"Thanks," she said, and she sighed. 

"Heavy is the head that wears the crown," Reuben said, and he patted her on the shoulder.

"Don't say that," Naomi said, her eyes darting around, "or they might start getting _ideas_." She was already finding weird little trinkets left in her boots sometimes. She didn't have it in her to become some kind of totemic home god or prophet or who even _knew_ what.

Reuben snorted. "What do you need those for, anyway?" He watched her get them off the wall, gingerly opening and closing them. They creaked a little bit, but no rust flaked off, and the blades looked sharp enough. 

"There's a bunch of branches poking out around the fence by the apple orchard," said Naomi. "I want to trim 'em, to make sure that nothing falls on the fence and damages it." 

_I don't want something from outside getting in_ , she didn't say, because that was preposterous. What difference did an old split rail fence make, when it came to keeping anything out? 

And yet. 

She didn't know how to explain it, but seeing those branches hanging over the line just made her... anxious. So she'd go along the outside of the fence, cut any branches for firewood, and keep the perimeter clear. 

"Be safe," said Reuben, and she could see the same concern written across his face that had been itching away in the depths of her guts. _There's something out there, and it isn't safe._

* * *

Naomi found the baby about a mile down the fence. She hadn't been sure what she was seeing, when she first saw it. There was a snuffling, wet little noise, and then movement out of the corner of her eye. 

There was something small and hairy making pitiful noises, and it was wrapped in... something. She didn't want to look at it too closely, but it felt like meat, and whatever it was sizzled when it touched her gardening gloves. 

Naomi wasn't even thinking when she picked the baby up - it was heavier than she thought it would be, and it clung to her shirt when she cradled it closer to her. It's feet were huge, and there were ugly bare spots amongst the thick hair, which looked like...

"Jellyfish stings?" Naomi squinted down at the squirming baby, adjusting her grip on it and the clippers. She ended up shoving them in her back pocket, wrapping the baby in her over shirt as she made her way back to the house. The baby's head was resting on her chest, eyes closed, and she kept glancing down to make sure that it was still breathing. 

That made no sense whatsoever; the nearest ocean was at least a hundred miles away, and even if it wasn't, they were at the top of a mountain.

But whatever.

The baby whimpered, squirming against her, and she was hit with a brief snapshot of a memory; blinding pain around her, squeezing her tightly, then dropping her. She staggered, nearly fell over, then righted herself and made her way towards the house. 

"It's okay," she said, and she cuddled the baby a little closer to her, as it whimpered again. "It's okay, we'll be okay. I'll send Anthony and Jen to go do the rest of the pruning, we'll get you all fixed up, your Mama will be back..." She was mostly talking to talk, to calm herself down.

It felt like something in the woods was watching her, and the feeling gave her the creeps. It felt... unsafe to be on the other side of the fence, and that made no sense, because it was just a fence, it wasn't as if it'd be able to block anything.

She climbed over it anyway, balancing the baby precariously, and she made her way down the apple orchard, towards the big house. The anxiety that had been crawling up her spine dissipated every step she took away from the fence, and she held the baby a little more loosely, letting it clutch at her shirt. Its eyes opened, and they stared up into her own.

They were blue, like a kitten or a puppy's, and but there was a familiarity there. It's face was screwing up again, and it was beginning to whimper.

"I know," Naomi said, trying to keep her voice gentle. "I know it's scary, it's okay, we'll get that looked at, get you fixed up in no time..." 

She tried to believe herself, as every step took her closer to home.

* * *

"What _is_ it?" Reuben stared down at the baby, wide eyed, as it squirmed on her spread out shirt, on the big butcher's block in the kitchen. 

_Is this sanitary?_ Some part of her wondered. _It might be a wild animal._

Then again, they'd cleaned the odd duck and turkey that Matthias had caught with his bow and arrow, and the baby wasn't bleeding. It was quiet, and its eyes were very wide. It looked scared. 

"I don't know," said Naomi. 

"Looks like a chimp, kinda," said Rosa, squinting down. 

"No, the proportions are wrong," said Reuben. "Chimps have more in the leg."

"Could be a sasquatch," suggested Juan, but he was looking equally confused. 

The baby was breathing very shallowly, and it was trembling, although Naomi didn't know if it was from fear or from pain. Impulsively, she put her finger in the palm of its little hand, and it grabbed it, squeezing tightly. 

"Sasquatch aren't real," said Rosa, rolling her eyes.

"They could be," said Reuben. "What with..." He trailed off, cleared his throat. 

There had been reports of strange sightings, before they'd all gotten in the bus and driven into the mountains. Lights in the sky, dancing figures just outside the streetlights, voices drifting up from the drains. There were cracks in existence, fissures in reality... or so it seemed. 

Or maybe the government was testing some kind of hallucinogenic gas on everyone. Who knew. 

"Well," said Rosa, who was (had been?) a nursing student and had some experience, "it is clearly hurt. And a girl, as far as I can tell."

"Right," said Naomi, who hadn't been paying too much attention to that. "So... I thought that looked like a jellyfish sting, but that can't be right. Is it poison ivy? Poison oak?"

"No, I think your first guess was right," said Rosa. She'd taken the baby's leg in her hand, and was squinting at it. 

The baby was trilling now, grunting and whining in distress. The anxiety seemed to be hitting Naomi as well, and she had to take deep breaths to keep herself calm. "It's okay," she told the baby, and she used her free hand to gently rub its furry belly. "I know it hurts, but we're trying to help."

"How the fuck -" Juan began.

"Language," Reuben said sharply. "There's a baby here!"

Juan rolled his eyes. "How the _heck_ ," he said, giving Reuben a Look, "did she get a jellyfish sting in the middle of a forest on a mountain?"

"I have no idea," said Rosa, "but I know how to treat it, at least." She winced at a memory. "Got stung by a Man o'War when I was a kid," she explained. "It looked like this, although I didn't have as much hair to lose." She paused. "This is gonna get messy."

"Well," said Naomi, carefully lifting the baby up, "I can live with messy, as long as it works." The baby nestled into Naomi's chest, clutching at Naomi's shirt, and she sighed, a sound much older than she was. 

* * *

The baby screamed when they poured the vinegar over the burns. The scream was like nails on glass, and it made Naomi's teeth ache. They were holding her over the sink, carefully pouring the vinegar over her, and the baby was still screaming and crying.

"I know, sweetheart," Naomi crooned, and she kept rubbing the baby's back, as Reuben and Juan held the baby's flailing legs, so that Rosa could pour the vinegar. "I know it hurts, but we're gonna make it better, sh..."

Juan was wincing, but he was making soothing noises as well. "We'll get you all fixed up, it's okay."

Rosa finished with the vinegar, and she began to pat the baby dry, carefully. "That should help," she said, and she was speaking directly to the baby. "I know, sweetheart."

"That'll help," said Rosa. "I've never seen anything like this before, though." The baby was clutching at Naomi again, trembling and whimpering, and Naomi held her carefully, rocking her.

"What, a hairy baby, or those stings?" Reuben reached a big hand out to pet the baby's head.

"Both," said Rosa. "Could you show me what it was wrapped up in?" 

The idea of leaving the safety of the fence - especially with the baby still whimpering against her neck - made her shiver. "Later," she said firmly. "I'm gonna make her up a bed, and then we need to do some inventory of the basement."

"Fair enough," said Rosa, and she stretched. "I'll go get the steno pad." 

"Let's do some inventory," Naomi said to the baby, who was trying to chew on her hair, "and we can figure out what you like to eat, and then we can try to find your Mama..." 

The baby didn't answer, but her breathing had slowed down, and her desperate little heartbeat had finally calmed down. 

* * *

Naomi was down in the basement counting cans of pineapple when Reuben came down, and there was nervous anxiety coming off of him, so strong that it made all the hair stand on end. 

Reuben wasn't an anxious person. He was the calmest person she knew, and the only other time she'd seen him this rattled was that night on the bus.

"Willy?" He was still on the stairs, and he was looking at her very calmly. His eyes were very wide.

"What's up?" She turned away from the giant line of shelves covered in cans, glancing over to see the baby asleep in a laundry basket, wrapped in a blanket.

"There are... you should come upstairs." For all that he seemed anxious, his voice was calm. 

"What's going on?" Naomi put down her notepad (she'd have to count it all again, since she'd lost her place) and went to pick up the baby.

"There are some... well, there's someone at the fence, and they're mad," said Reuben. "And Jason's got the shotgun."

"Oh _fuck_ ," Willy said. She had an armful of the sleeping baby, who was still out like a light, and she more or less _ran_ up the stairs. 

Jason was nice enough, but he had some very strong feelings about what he referred to as "home defense" and what everyone else referred to as "being an aggressive asshole about his property." He had, for the most part, kept to himself, but he'd also somehow found Agatha's shotgun. Naomi could, in theory, get him to hand it over, but she was already trying to get them to stop treating her like she was in charge. It wouldn't help things if she started issuing orders from on high. 

Hopefully it would all be a big misunderstanding. Maybe the unknown neighbors were finally showing up and wanted to know why there were a bunch of college students suddenly living on Agatha's land. 

* * *

There were bipedal shapes at the gate, and it was quiet. The quiet was so complete that it seemed to have depth, and Naomi was half afraid of drowning in it. 

The figures standing at the gate were very hairy, and there seemed to be about a dozen of them. They were very tall, and they were ranged around the gate. Some of them were holding what looked like rocks, while other ones seemed to be holding very big sticks. Naomi's people (oh god, she was thinking of them as _her_ people, wasn't she, this wasn't a good sign) were standing as well, and she could see a few pitchforks, and a hammer or two. 

"What is going on?" Naomi's voice rang out like a bell, and all the faces around her turned to look. She walked towards the gate, and she was still holding the baby, who was beginning to wake up and wriggle.

"They showed up," said Jason, and he was holding the shotgun pointing down at the ground. And his own foot, oh god.

"Put it down," Naomi said, and she put a lot more conviction in her voice than she knew she had.

"But that one is going to -" Jason began.

"I don't _care_ what that one is going to do," Naomi snapped, "you will _not_ shoot anyone on this property, am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jason said meekly, and he put the shotgun down.

Naomi advanced towards the gate very slowly, and she held the baby a little bit tighter. 

As she got closer to the gate, she could see that the figures seemed to be built along the same lines as the baby, but bigger. The figure (person?) was covered in darker hair than the others, and had eyes the same arresting blue as the baby's. Naomi thought she could make out breasts, although it would be rude to stare, wouldn't it?

When the figure saw the baby, she made... some kind of noise. It might have been speech, it might have just been an explanation. When Naomi's eyes met the figures, it was as if a spark went down her back. 

The baby, for her part, caught sight of the figure, and had begun to wriggle, squeaking. She was reaching out with her big hands, fingers opening and closing in the universal gesture of "pick me up!" that seemed pretty clear.

"I'm sorry," Naomi said. She was now close enough that the figure could grab her. "Is this your baby?" She kept eye contact, and was that a bad idea? She'd read that gorillas read eye contact as aggression, and this wasn't supposed to be aggression.She wasn't sure what this was supposed to be. 

The figure opened her arms, and Naomi carefully transferred the baby over. Their hands brushed each other, and then there was a jolt of some kind of emotion that washed over Naomi like a wave. She stared, transfixed, at the woman (and she was a woman, she could sense the intelligence, somehow), and the woman stared at her. 

Then there was the sound of something clicking, and Naomi was jolted out of whatever trance she had been, to blink over her shoulder. Jason had picked the shotgun up again, and Tabitha was coming forward slowly, still wielding the pitchfork. 

"I said to _drop it_ ," Naomi said sharply. "All of you. Drop it."

"But they came to attack," said Jason.

"They came to get their kid back," Naomi snapped. "I'm not starting an all out war with our neighbors."

"They're not our -" someone started to say.

"They live here, we live here. We're the newcomers." Naomi pulled on some deep, inner well of strength. "Drop your weapons, right now." 

There were a series of muffled thuds, as the various implements were dropped onto the dying grass. 

There was another click, and Naomi looked over, to see that one of the big, hairy men was still holding a rock, his arm tensing up.

The woman holding the baby (who had latched on to one of her breasts, and was nursing, little fist pressed against one cheek) turned, and she barked something out herself. There were more muffled thuds, and Naomi made eye contact with her again.

They shared a look, and Naomi felt some kind of relief, that there was someone else who _understood_ , although what understanding they were sharing she wasn't entirely sure. 

The hairy woman nodded to Naomi, and then the whole lot of them turned around, and began to walk back into the forest.

"Are we just going to let them go?" Jason's voice was nervous, and higher than normal. "If there's a bunch of -"

"They're our neighbors," Naomi said, interrupting Jason before he could go on a tear.

"They're animals," Jason said, and there was a note of whine in his voice. "It can't be safe, having them out there in the woods like that."

Naomi wheeled around, so that she was looking him straight in the face. She wasn't sure where the rage had come from, but it was simmering under her skin, as sharp and biting as acid. "They've been here just as long as we have," she said, and she was speaking very calmly, very slowly. She could see Reuben's face out of the corner of her eye, and she saw that he was wincing. 

She usually cried when she got mad, or stuttered. When she was so mad she was calm... well. 

"I'm just saying -" Jason started.

"They are our neighbors. They came to get their kid. They didn't hurt us, they didn't take anything. If I ever find you threatening them, or anyone else, ever again, you are welcome to live somewhere else. Do I make myself clear?" 

Her heart was beating very loudly in her ears. She hadn't even been aware of what she'd been saying, not really. _Shit_ , what did it mean, that she was treating herself like someone in charge of all of this? She didn't want them to treat her like that, but it needed doing, and she'd do it if she had to.

Jason looked down at his feet, then up into her face. There were _tears_ streaming down his face, and oh no, this was not something she was good at.

"I'm sorry," he said, and his voice had a snuffling, choked note to it. "I'm sorry, I... I hear things at night, and I'm scared." He _fell to his knees_ , and he looked up at her. "I'm sorry for being a warmongering idiot."

"I didn't call you that," Naomi said weakly. She was losing ground, wasn't she? 

Jason was crying hard, and she mentally sighed, and got on her knees as well, and hugged him. He was a few years younger than she was, and from what she remembered from back in the dorm (which felt like a million years ago), he'd always been a somewhat nervous individual. 

"I keep hearing things in the woods at night," Jason said, and he was blubbering into her shoulder. "I don't..." 

"I hear them too," said Abigail, and she looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I just... I didn't want to sound weird, talking about it."

"I don't think it's weird," said Naomi, from her spot in the dust. "I want you all to tell me what's going on, so we can figure out what to do." 

Abigail rubbed the back of her neck. "You're going to think I'm nuts," she said, and she was shifting from foot to foot. 

Naomi didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow.

Abigail cleared her throat, cheeks reddening. "There's... it sounds like the ocean," she said, and she cleared her throat. "Not like... not like waves or anything, just... I've been waking up and all I can think is that it sounds like the ocean."

"... right," said Naomi, because she wasn't sure how to respond to that. She thought of the belly, with its jellyfish sting, and she mentally grouped them together with _weird but not pressing._ "Well," she said, "we should get back to work. We're losing daylight."

"Right," said Jason, and he wiped his nose on the back of his hand, cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"Don't point guns at people," she said, "unless you know for sure that they're a danger."

"I'll have to trust you on that," Jason said, and his tone was so full of _trust_ that it made her stomach twist. She watched him leave, and she tried to push the feeling that she was in over her head out of her mind.

* * *

"So if they're our neighbors," Reuben said, later that night, "how come they didn't bring us any spinach dip when we moved in?" He was stretched out on her bedroom floor, his feet on the windowsill.

Naomi snorted, and nudged him with one foot. "You weirdo," she said, her tone affectionate. 

"You know it's true," he said. "Spinach dip is truly the superior party food."

"You're wrong, but that's okay," Naomi said. 

"Do you think she's okay?" Reuben asked. "The baby, I mean." 

Naomi looked up from Aunt Agatha's journal, to see her brother's concerned face. "I think she's okay," she said. "She's with her mom now."

"Yeah," said Reuben. "It's the weirdest thing, though. What are the chances of a jellyfish sting, up on top of a mountain?"

There was something niggling on the edge of Naomi's mind, something like a word on the tip of her tongue. But she couldn't put her finger on it. Not quite yet. 

"Night, Willy," her brother said, and he stood up, stretching. He kissed her head, and she hugged him, then turned the light out and crawled into bed. Her last thought, before she drifted off, was of the hairy woman's bright blue eyes, and the knowing look the two of them had shared.

* * *

Naomi woke up at some unknown hour of the night, and she knew that something was about to happen. It was the same feeling that had led to her packing anyone who she could get into a school bus to drive up a mountain, but it was... different as well. 

She'd already pulled her pants on under her nightgown and was cramming her feet into a pair of shoes before she seemed to come back to herself.

_What am I doing?_ She paused, and the panic seemed to seize her by the throat and shake her like a stick in a dog's mouth.

She hurried through the house, and doors opened up behind her - the floors were squeaky, and she wasn't being careful. She was practically running at full pelt. She couldn't hear the questions people were asking, couldn't hear anything over her own heartbeat. 

_I need to get to the gate_ , thought some part of her, but what part of her was thinking that? She didn't know, but she was outside now, the insects singing to her in a chorus. The moon was bright and yellow, and the trees on the other sides of the fence reached out towards the sky like beseeching skeletal hands. 

She was kicking up dust with every step she took, and she could hear sleepy, confused conversation behind her. She'd left the front door open in her haste, and she heard it close, distantly. 

_I have to get to the gate, I have to get to the gate, I have to get to the gate_ , pounded through her whole body, as insistent as a migraine. She could make out shapes standing there, huge and quiet, shuffling.

The hairy people from before were standing there, the big woman in the front. The baby was asleep over her shoulder, clutching the thick hair covering her shoulders, and her blue eyes were very wide in the darkness.

The two people - one human, one, not - stared at each other over the gate. _Something is coming_ , shrieked Naomi's internal monologue, and she shuddered, biting her lip.

The people behind her had quieted down - maybe they were watching? At least her talk about how these people were their neighbors had finally sunk into their heads. 

The hairy woman reached a hand out, almost beseechingly, and Naomi reached out her own. _This is a bad idea_ , whispered a critical part of her mind. 

She shoved that part away, and she pressed her palm against the hairy woman's.

Naomi was awash in a sea of someone else's emotions, and she shook all over, jerked her hand away. The woman stayed there, her hand out, and Naomi looked from it to her face. When her eyes met Naomi's, they were kind. Concerned, even in the silvery-grey shadows of the moonlight. It seemed like there was a similar panic filling her, and Naomi took a deep breath, and pressed their palms together.

More emotions - that same blinding panic, that same _gotta-get-away_ beating through her body, but now she had two bodies. She felt rather than saw other memories - being in a small structure surrounded by other big, familiar bodies. The baby - Ena - whimpering. The brief, flickering memory of a great long _thing_ grabbed Ena, and then the desperate search for her. A distant memory of watching an old woman with iron grey hair on the other side of this fence, the growing terror that _there's something in the woods_.

Naomi broke the contact, and stared into the woman's face. "What's your name?" It felt like an absurd thing to ask, in a situation like this, but it was suddenly vitally important. 

"Arra," said the woman. Her voice was surprisingly high pitched, for someone that big. 

"Arra," said Naomi. "My name is Naomi." 

"Nah... Neh..." Arra stumbled, and her whole face was furrowing up. She had a surprisingly readable face, for all that it wasn't human. 

"Willy," Naomi said quickly, because she didn't want to stand here all night. She wanted to... what? Get away? Where was "away"? 

Arra took Naomi's hand again, laced their fingers together. Her skin was soft, and slightly stiff, a bit like old leather. There was another rush of feelings, but she was expecting it this time, and she braced herself. 

_Who are you?_ she asked, only she wasn't using words, exactly. The idea of the question, more than the question itself. 

_People,_ came the answer. _We've always lived here._ The memories passed down - some of them had a tinge of age to them that was older than Arra, older than this house. They'd always lived here, would always live here.

Naomi looked into Arra's open face, and her heart beat a little bit faster. She wasn't sure what she was feeling, apart from the blind panic. Naomi wasn't afraid of Arra and her people, for all that they were so strange. 

_There is something that shouldn't be in the woods_ , Arra thought, and the sensation of being watched by something invasive and alien prickled along Naomi's skin, like pins and needles. 

_What is it?_ Naomi glanced over Arra's shoulder, and saw more People, some of them holding babies, some of them old enough to be stooped, supported by other, younger People.

_We don't know_. Arra was shaking, Naomi realized, and she impulsively squeezed the woman's fingers a little tighter, in an attempt to comfort her. 

"What's going on?" That was Reuben's voice, sleepy but more or less aware.

Arra tensed up, and Naomi squeezed her fingers. _He's safe_ , she thought, and she sent along all the memories of the two of them, from holding hands on the first day of preschool up to that terrifying night on the bus.

Arra relaxed, just a bit. 

"There's something in the woods," Naomi said.

"Well, yes," said Reuben. "You're holding hands with one of them."

"No," Naomi said, and her voice was coming clearer now, as the terror began to turn to ice in her guts. "There's _something_ in the woods."

He must have caught the panic in her voice, because he frowned. "Willy?" 

"Willy," Arra repeated. 

"We need to let them in," Naomi said. "They can stay in the barn, there's a lot of space there, and we're not storing anything." 

"I... why do you want to let them in?" Reuben had gone to shove his hands into his pockets, then seemed to realize that his pajama pants had no pockets. He crossed his arms over his chest, then laced his fingers together and put his hands behind his head. 

"There's something in the woods," Naomi said, yet again. She was beginning to get repetitive. "They're our neighbors - we need to help them."

"I trust you, Willy," Reuben said, and he said it so sincerely that it made her heart ache. "Do you want me to tell everyone, you can get them settled in?"

"Thank you," she said, and then she turned to Arra. _You can come inside_ , she said. _We have a barn._

Arra shifted the baby in her grip, and she reluctantly let go of Naomi's hand.

Naomi unlatched the gate, and she opened it. She held her breath, as she stepped aside, and she watched as the People walked out onto the dusty path, one after another.

There were about a dozen of them, all told, and she gave a sigh of relief when the gate closed. 

* * *

Naomi's people (and oh _god_ how far gone was she if she was already thinking of them as _her_ people) were gathered on the wide porch, staring intently at the People who were filing by. 

"What's going on?" Josh (it sounded like Josh?) said. 

"I trust her," said Juan, and there was so much certainty in his voice that it made her heart ache. 

The barn was spacious - there weren't any animals living on the farm. Mostly, it was for keeping apples. _What if they eat the apples? Are apples bad for their guts?_

"Thank you," said Arra, in her slightly high, fluting voice. 

"You're welcome," said Naomi, and she was blushing. She stood in the dim shadows of the barn, squinting up at Arra. "Will you be safe?"

"Safe," Arra agreed. She put a hand on Naomi's cheek, and it was so big it covered the whole of her face. The other woman smelled like green things, and a little bit like fresh soil, like living skin and fur. It was a comforting scent, and Naomi wanted to wrap it around herself.

At least a little bit of the panic had died down. She could think, above the desperate pounding in her ears. 

_Thank you_ , Arra sent to Naomi, through the skin to skin contact and their minds. The feeling was tinged with relief, and with exhaustion. 

Naomi pressed Arra's hand against her cheek with her own hand, and she sighed. _Stay here,_ she told Arra. Impulsively, she pressed a dry little kiss to the leathery palm, and then she let go, carefully closing the door behind her. 

* * *

"I know it's weird to have a bunch of... neighbors in our barn," Naomi said to her gathered... flock? Group? Family? "I just... I had a feeling."

"Like that night?" Sarah was hugging her knees, wrapped up in one of Aunt Agatha's horrible old wool blankets.

"Yeah," Naomi said. "Yeah. Exactly."

"Well," said Reuben, "we trust you." He said it as if it was a fact, just something that was a basic of the universe.

"Oh," said Naomi, and she swallowed. It felt like there was a stone in her throat. The intensity of their belief in her hit like a blackjack to the back of the head. "I'm going to... stay up a little more. Do some reading. You can all go to bed."

"What are we going to do in the morning?" Josh asked. "I don't want to, like, kick them out or anything," he added quickly. "Just... y'know, have some kind of action plan." 

"We'll figure it out in the morning," Naomi said. "For now, let's all get our rest."

"Will do," said Josh, and he gave her a nervous little smile. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going to shoot anyone or anything like that, I just want to know what to make for breakfast." 

She smiled at him, and the relief must have shown in her smile, because he looked faintly disconcerted. "Good night, Jason," she said, "and everyone else." 

There were several murmured replies, and then the creaking of the house as everyone made their way to their rooms. 

* * *

_Kudzu in the pumpkin patch. Need to remember where I put my flamethrower_ , read the passage from Aunt Agatha's journal the next morning. 

"That's cryptic," she said out loud, and then she sighed, and closed the book, making her way downstairs to eat breakfast.

Everyone was quiet, and there were quite a few sleepy eyes. 

There were no _requirements_ that people had to be up at a certain point. There was a work rota, to decide who did what, but as long as someone didn't have morning chores, they could sleep as late as they wanted, or stay up as long as they wanted. It had become a bit of a tradition for everyone to eat breakfast together - something about them all around the big table or crowding into the kitchen together felt _right_ , even if someone was usually still sleeping.

Today, everyone was awake, and looking at her with... expectation? Hope? 

She couldn't read it, but it was making her nervous. Was she expected to give a speech? She'd never been good at giving speeches. 

"We've got some guests in the barn," she said, because she wasn't sure what else to say. "They, uh, they don't all speak English, but I'm sure we can muddle our way along." She shoved her hands in her pockets, tried to formulate the next thing to say. "All I ask," she said finally, "is to assume that their intentions are just as good as yours." 

There was a pregnant pause, then; "bold of you to assume I've got good intentions," said Hannah.

That seemed to break the tension, as everyone snorted or rolled their eyes.

"They are our guests," said Naomi, but the tension was leaving her shoulders. "If anyone is having any trouble with them, come find me. We'll figure out what to do from there."

"Yes, Boss," said Juan, and Naomi didn't know how to describe the mix of anxiety and confidence that came from hearing him say that.

If nothing else, she could trust her people.

* * *

There was something standing by the gate. 

Naomi squinted, shoving the clippers in her pocket. She'd been meaning to go to the orchard and do a little bit of pruning, but there was some gut feeling that was telling her to check the gate. Seems it was right, once again.

_Maybe we should put some bells on it_ , she thought, as she made her way down the path. _Not that we normally get quite so many visitors, but... still._

There was a person standing on the other side of the gate. Or at least. Someone (something?) person shaped.

"Hello," they called, and something about their voice gave Naomi the creeps.

"Can I help you?" Naomi cracked her knuckles, rocked on her heels. Every cell in her body was screaming _run_ , but that would mean turning her back to whoever or whatever this was, and that idea was even worse. 

The terror in the pit of her guts was getting worse, and she was pasting a fake smile on her face.

_I'm really out of practice with playing nice_ , she thought, vaguely surprised at herself. For all that her people (oh no, she really was buying into it, wasn't she?) made her a little anxious and self conscious, she knew that she could always be _herself_ around them, more or less. And the People from the forest... well, she trusted Arra. They weren't human, so they didn't expect human niceties, just that she was honest.

She hoped. 

"I was wondering if I could come on to the property," the person on the other side of the gate said. "I was friends with the former owner, and had an open invitation." They had an androgynous voice, but she couldn't seem to get a grip on what they looked like, other than vaguely bipedal and vaguely upright. There was a weird... shimmer about them, and the light had an almost iridescent look, as if they were coated in oil. 

_Like fuck Aunt Agatha would ever let this creep on our land_ , thought Naomi, as her skin kept trying to crawl away from them. 

"This is private property," Naomi said, and her hands were in her back pockets. She could feel the clipper handles, smooth and solid against her wrist. 

"I know," the person said, and they smiled. At least, there was the impression of a smile, even if she couldn't see it. "It's why I'm asking. It's the neighborly thing to do, isn't it?" 

"Are you from around here?" She licked her lips.

"Newly moved in," they said. "Such as yourself, I see." 

_How would they know that?_ "This is my family's land," she said. "My land," she added. "We've been here for a while."

"Not all of the people on the property are family, are they?" They were looking at her (she assumed - she only got the vaguest impression of eyes, before her head began to hurt), and there was an air of... expectation to it.

"They're all my people," Naomi said stiffly, and she was standing up straighter now, squaring her shoulders.

"Everyone on this property?" The person (?) sounded skeptical. 

"Yes," said Naomi. "Everyone." 

"I've had a bit of a vermin problem around here," the person said, changing tacks. "I could inspect it for you. I notice you've got an orchard - aren't you worried about your fruit being stolen?"

"There's enough for everyone," Naomi said. "Everyone on our property is welcome." 

"So you'll be opening -"

"Everyone _currently_ in this fence is welcome," Naomi said, then; "is there anything else I can do for you? I need to get back to work."

"I can, of course, come in," the stranger said.

"No," said Naomi, and she bit back a "sorry." She didn't want to apologize to this... being. She wanted them off her fence. 

"Why not?" Their tone was getting wheedling, and she gritted her teeth. 

She remembered the feel of Arra's hand in her own, soft like old leather, but strong. The feel of another warm body, the soft, slightly wiry hair brushing against her bare arm. 

The feeling of Arra's mind against her own. 

"This is my home," Naomi said. "I choose who comes onto it, and so does it." 

The fence creaked, although it hadn't moved, and the trees around her rustled. 

There was some kind of power welling up inside of her, coming up through her boots and her legs. 

"I'm no threat," said the figure. "I'm just looking for something. Something that was mine."

"It isn't here," said Naomi.

"I'd listen to her if I were you," said a voice behind Naomi.

She turned around, and there were her people, once again assembled with weapons, improvised and otherwise. Reuben came to stand behind her, and she held his hand tightly. 

"You don't belong here," the thing said, and its voice was oily. It seemed to be losing any cohesion, and to look at it made her eyes burn and her teeth ache. 

"This is my home and these are my people," Naomi said. "You are not one of them, and you are not welcome." 

The thing was gone. It didn't vanish in a puff of smoke or disappear in the blink of an eye, it was just... gone.

Naomi sagged back against Reuben, the power that had been flowing through her vanishing. 

"Are we okay?" Patricia sounded nervous. She was still holding tightly to her pitchfork.

"Yeah," Naomi said thickly. "We're okay. We're fine. I'm sorry about that." She paused. "We should all stay in the fence for now, though."

"Anything you say, boss," said Jason, and he gave a mock salute.

Naomi shivered and gave Reuben's hand another squeeze, then made her way back towards the barn. She needed to talk to Arra.

* * * 

The People were sitting up in the barn, talking quietly. She heard the occasional guttural word, and saw hands touching hands, foreheads against foreheads. She found Arra sitting against an apple crate, playing peekaboo (or some equivalent) with the baby. She looked up when Naomi walked in, and her face wrinkled up like a raisin.

_Is that a smile?_ Naomi wondered, as she dropped to sit next to Arra. 

It was weird, how _easy_ it was to be so close to her. It was like they'd known each other forever, which was strange, considering they weren't even the same species.

Instead of offering a hand, Arra wrapped her arm around Naomi's shoulders, pulling Naomi a little closer to her.

Naomi sighed, and she rested her head on Arra's chest. She could feel the tickle of Arra's thoughts on the edge of her own, Arra's emotions. It was like someone holding a plate of glass between two sections of water. 

She opened herself up, lifted the glass, and let Arra into her thoughts. 

Arra was tired, and there was still that faint tinge of worry, nibbling at the edges of her mind. But they were safe in the barn, they were safe on this side of the fence.

_Thank you for keeping the danger away_ , thought Arra.. She couldn't even remember what it had looked like when it was holding itself together, just that sense that it was wrong, that it didn't belong here. 

Arra's fingers were coming through her hair, and Naomi cuddled into Arra's warm, hairy chest. The feeling of the fur against her skin was comforting, and being in the quiet barn with the sounds of People communicating and being _alive_ was like a balm to the soul after talking to... whatever that was.

_I was frightened_ , Naomi said, because it was easy to say that to Arra, when they were sitting in this dark corner, when she didn't have all of her people looking at her hopefully. 

_There's something in the woods_ , Arra agreed, and there was that memory of something grabbing the baby, something long and sinuous that smelled like salt and decay. 

Naomi shivered convulsively, and Arra held her closer. There were tears streaming down Naomi's face, and she couldn't seem to stop them, as she trembled against Arra's warm, comforting bulk.

Arra didn't say anything, didn't judge her. She kept holding her, making soft noises, as Naomi tried to process whatever it was that she had just had to interact with. 

"Willy," Arra said, after some time, and Naomi came back to herself, more or less. 

"Arra," Naomi said back. There was something strangely... intimate about saying each other's names, when the two of them had been sharing their minds together. 

Arra tenderly tucked a piece of hair behind Naomi's ear, and Naomi shivered. _I think he'll be back_ , she thought at Arra, and Arra made a face that Naomi didn't understand. Then she shrugged. 

"Yeah," Naomi said out loud. _You're allowed wherever you'd like, but maybe stay in the fence?_ She pictured the whole of the property, encircled by the fence like a glowing gold wire.

Arra patted her on the shoulder and gave a clumsy nod.

Naomi squeezed Arra's fingers, then stood up. She felt invigorated in spite of herself, and she shoved her hands in her pockets, whistling as she walked back towards the house.

* * *

The People and Naomi's people mostly kept to themselves. There were a few shared glances of the "aren't we all friendly yes we are" sort of thing between the two groups. Naomi was reminded of nothing so much as being at a work Christmas party. The mental image of the People in Santa hats wormed its way into her head, and she ended up throwing her head back and cackling like a loon as she weeded the garden.

That got her several worried looks, but... whatever. There were things in the woods, so who cared if she looked a little weird. She piled the weeds into a basket, and made her way towards the compost heap.

Reuben was sitting on the porch, his feet on the rail and his hands behind his head. He was staring at the trees, his brows furrowed.

"You look pensive, Sandwich," Naomi said, sitting on the steps and looking over at him.

Reuben came back to himself, and he blinked at Naomi. "Sandwich," he said, his tone thoughtful. "Haven't heard that one in a while."

“If you can keep calling me Willy -” she began.

“If we want to be formal I can go back to calling you Wyoming, if you’d like,” he said. “Since Sandwich feels more formal.”

“I could call you ‘Sandy,’ if you’d prefer,” she offered. 

He wrinkled his nose, and she giggled.

"If you keep making that face, it'll stick like that," she told him.

"Well," he said, "there are worse fates." He was still frowning.

"What's on your mind?" _Other than the People in the barn and whatever is happening back in the rest of the world and the creep who tried to get into the gate..._

"There's something in the woods," Reuben said, echoing back what Arra had been saying. "Something that shouldn't be."

"Yeah," Naomi said, and she shivered, suddenly cold in the warm sunlight. "Yeah. There is."

* * * 

The People came out at dusk, and they sat by the porch. A few of Naomi's own people went over, to talk. Jason had one hand against the Person who had been holding the very big stick, and the two of them were staring at each other very intently.

The People had gotten into the basket of weeds and were eating them slowly, carefully. Methodically. Patricia had a baby in her lap, and was communicating quietly with the mother, who looked like a smaller, more dainty Arra. 

Arra sat next to Naomi on the porch steps, and they kept holding hands. Naomi was starting to take deep comfort, from the old leather softness of those hands. 

_You're always welcome here_ , Naomi told Arra, and the fervency of the thought took her by surprise. 

_You're welcome in our home too,_ Arra thought back at her, and there was the image of the home, deep in the forest. The home that may be overtaken by whatever it was that was filing woods. 

Whatever those horrible eyes that were on the very edge of the forest belonged to.

"We're neighbors," said Naomi firmly, and she said it out loud. "Neighbors look out for each other." 

Arra looked at her sidelong. "Nay-burrs," she said, in her higher pitched voice. 

"Um," said Naomi. She tried to wrap her head around explaining the basic idea of it. _People who live beside each other?_ But that wasn't it, because she'd lived next to the same people all her life and didn't feel that same connection. _Friends? Allies?_

She squeezed Arra's hand, and Arra squeezed hers back and nuzzled into her temple. it was a gesture she'd seen the other People do with each other, and she wasn't sure what it meant. 

She'd never been this comfortable with another being before, not on this level. She wanted... she wasn't sure about all of the things she wanted, or whether she should have been ashamed of them, or to explore it more. 

Arra was so _calm_ , so thoughtful. She loved her people the way Naomi loved her own, 

There was a sound by the gate, and as one, everyone looked up. 

There was that thing again. Sort of.

It looked different, in the darkness. It seemed to warp, to _pulse_ , like a migraine. Naomi could feel a sudden pressure on the sides of her head, digging into her ears, and it made her stagger.

Arra was drawing her lips back from her teeth, baring them. She let go of Naomi's hand, and she stood up. She handed the baby over to one of the other People - he looked like an old man, although it was hard for her to tell, especially in the dim lighting. 

_She can't be serious_ , Naomi thought, but no, Arra was going straight towards the gate. Arra, brave, strong, beautiful Arra, was going to confront that... thing.

Naomi sprinted to catch up, and she heard her people and the People coming up behind her, feet kicking up dust on the path.

* * * 

"You told me that you only had your people on this land," said the thing on the other side of the fence. With the setting sun and the lights from the house being so far away, all she could make out was some kind of darkness within the darkness. "I don't appreciate liars."

"I'm not a liar," said Naomi. "These are my people. All of the people on this land belong here. You do not."

There were body sounds behind her, and the sounds of the rest of the property all around her. The creaking of the trees in the orchard, the house settling on its foundations, the wind whispering through the garden. Arra was next to her, and she was so strong, so capable, and so beautiful in a way that Naomi hadn't ever considered. Arra possessed a compassion that was greater than anything Naomi had ever encountered before, and it was a little like drowning.

"Those are _animals_ ," the thing at the gate growled. "You don't belong here, and neither do they."

"This is my land," Naomi said. That same power from before, coming up her legs, fizzing through her belly, her shoulders. She was new to this land, yes, but it was the land that had loved and been loved by her own family, by the People of the forest. It was the land that had been gifted to her and anyone who needed it by her aunt, and land that had accepted her and her people.

Her people, who had come with her away from the danger, or else come _to_ her, fleeing from this thing.

"You do not belong here," Naomi said, and whoever or whatever spoke through her was older than she could imagine, older than the bones that were buried in the orchard and the stones that held up the house's foundation. "You are not welcome." 

Her people believed in her, and their belief joined in with the rest of it, a great wave of light and heat. They trusted her, and maybe she didn't deserve it, but she had it now. She stood up straighter, and she reached out beside her, trusting her own instincts. 

Arra's hand was in her hand, Arra's hand like old leather, Arra's strength against her own. Arra's own history, her people who had been living on the mountain since humans had ever come to this land. 

_You do not belong here. You are a sickness. You are a plague. You are a disease._ Arra sent the thoughts at the being, and it staggered - it seemed to be able to feel them as physical blows. 

Naomi stood up on her tiptoes, turning to Arra, and Arra bent down. Their lips met, and it was like a shock wave. The trees in the orchard creaked, and so did the ones in the forest. The fence glowed like hot metal, and the thing on the other side of the gate _screamed_. 

When Naomi looked back, there was nothing there. 

_There is not something in the woods_ , Arra's mind sang into Naomi's, and Naomi pressed her forehead into Arra's. 

"It's safe," Naomi said out loud, and she sighed, rubbing her nose against Arra's. _Can you take me to your home?_

"Neighbor," Arra said, very slowly and very carefully, and Naomi's heart sang.


End file.
